Point Blank
by Riza Winters
Summary: Just trying to make it through his last year of high school, Ichigo gets drawn into the crime world when a blue haired stranger turns up bleeding in his father's clinic. But there is more to Grimmjow Jaggerjaques than petty crime- and Ichigo gets drawn into a history violence and secrets. "M" for sex and violence, (later chapters in particular).
1. Chapter 1

Whirring sirens were drowned by excessively loud pop lyrics blasting into teenage eardrums at dangerously high decibels, but the flash of red light did manage to catch the attention of the student trudging down the sidewalk, hood up and book bag slung over one shoulder. He stopped and pulled out his ear buds when he saw the two cruisers and four police officers, one rolling yellow tape across the mouth of an alley. A crowd had formed, blocking his path and he considered dodging around the police cars pulled up on the curb in order to get by until he caught a few words.

"-pulled a gun in broad daylight."

"I saw it! There were four of them."

"It was the gangs."

"The youngest was shot."

"They'll probably never find the body..."

Gang warfare in Karakura. It wasn't unheard of, but it was rare. Tokyo centre was where you heard of these things happening, not out here in their relatively small city.

"Ichigo."

"Oh, hey Miziuro." He turned to his smaller companion, almost a head shorter, dark hair hung a bit longer than Ichigo's wild orange mess. "What happened?"

"Someone was shot. Sounds like it was gang related."

"That's not good."

"No, it isn't."

Mizuro looked to him. "You worried about your sisters?"  
"I can't help it. This is a little too close to home, you know?"

"Yeah, I agree. Come on, I'll walk you home." It was a joke, but neither laughed. They both felt better with company, though Ichigo waved off his friend when he was still several blocks from his house. He wasn't scared, but he wasn't stupid either. He kept his hood down and ears open—four of them, at least one armed and none arrested—that meant they were still out here somewhere.

He arrived home safe, he could see the worry in his father's eyes, the news report about the incident babbled on the television, but Isshin Kurosaki never addressed it, not in front of his twin daughters.

"You're home late, Ichigo, you missed dinner," was all he said.

"Yeah, sorry, I had to work on a project with Chad."

"Well there's leftovers in the fridge. Come on girls, time for bed." Though they were in secondary school, their father often seemed to forget this fact and treated them like they were preschoolers who needed to be told to brush their teeth. But neither Karin nor Yuzu would ever correct his behaviour, their father simply loved them enough for both parents.

Ichigo watched them go up the stairs, his father returned after a bit, while he was washing his dishes.

"That alley was on your route home. Did you see anything?"

"The police were there, a crowd, but that's all."

"I don't want you to wear that thing when you walk anymore." He nodded to Ichigo's ipod on the table.

"Dad, I'm alright."

"Please, Ichigo."

"Fine."

"It's just...you never know."

"What happened to Mom was just an accident, it won't happen to me, or the girls."

"Ichigo." He watched him hard, "just do what I say."

"I will."

"Good. Now you should get to bed too, it's late."

"I still have math homework."

"Alright, well I'll see you in the morning." He stomped heavily upstairs, thoughts on the past, and Ichigo heard the familiar creak in overtaxed floorboards outside his sisters' room. It was several minutes later before he heard his dad head the rest of the way down the hall to his bedroom.

Ichigo glanced to the mural of his mother on the wall. "He's paranoid," he whispered to her with an exasperated sigh, then dug out his school books and got to work.

* * *

Brown eyes shot awake when his head slipped from his hand and dropped forward sharply. Ichigo groaned with fatigue and looked up to the clock above the stove. One A.M. He shut his books. So what if he got yelled at by his teacher tomorrow, he needed sleep.

But he'd barely stood before he heard the crack of glass, muted through the wall, but clearly in the building. His father's clinic was attached to their house and now that his attention was caught, he listened closely for further signs.

A thud.

Someone had broken into the clinic.

He looked from the phone to the stairs. He should call the police right now. But a question stayed him: had his father locked the door that joined his house to the clinic? If not, the intruder could come in here next.

He looked to the knife in the drying rack. He would make sure the door was locked before calling the police.

He took up his weapon and moved silently out of the kitchen and down the short steps to the clinic. He immediately cursed his father in his mind, seeing the door not only unlocked but slightly open. It took everything he had to calm his breath and move forward. There was no doubt someone was inside, he heard cupboards banging open and a running tap.

_Just shut the door and lock it._

_Just shut the door and lock it._

He repeated in his mind, but as he neared it, he caught a glimpse of the figure inside and froze, daring to watch through the narrow crack in the door.

He was leaned on a counter, letting water run over a cloth. When he pulled it out again, he let out a soft groan of pain and tried to stand up. He didn't make it all the way, but was able to lean back against the counter and peel back his coat. A sharp breath escaped him when he saw what lie underneath, but he continued despite the shock and pain and drew up his shirt as well before daubing at the wound.

"Shit." The word escaped him as he cleared blood and found the wound underneath. Ichigo watched him lower his hand to grip the counter again, then he turned and half fell over the sink as he vomited.

Now was the perfect time to shut the door and run to tell his father what was happening, but he was struck by the desperate pain-filled noises escaping the young stranger and found himself unable to move. He watched him retch and gasp in utter agony as pressure was put on the wound in his abdomen, then his grip against the counter top failed him, his knees gave and Ichigo lost sight of him when he fell, now blocked by another table.

Ichigo pushed through the door and into the clinic before he had time to consider his actions. He'd been so caught up in the moment, in the distress of the young man, that he'd forgotten the danger. But it was too late now, he'd made too much noise coming in and he'd been found out.

He still couldn't see the stranger, but he could hear him moving in reaction to his arrival. He shut the door behind him, not wanting to leave it as an invitation, but fairly confident now this man would not be able to get into his house in his state.

Very slowly, he came around the metal table his dad used to arrange all his instruments for a surgery. There was a large dark smear of blood, but the man wasn't there. He stopped, considering what he should do. He still had the knife in hand, and he had come this far, so he moved to the sink and shut the tap off.

At once he heard the strained breaths that had been masked by the running water. Moving just a bit farther he found him. He'd managed to drag himself around to the other end of the table but there he remained, leaned back against it, hands over the wound in his side and chest heaving.

"Shit," was all Ichigo managed to say when he perceived the large stain of blood that coloured his white tshirt and now continued to dampen his hands.

"Stay back," the man warned, though he had no weapon Ichigo could see and didn't even look like he could move again.

"It was you who got shot in the alley a few hours ago."

"I said stay back."

But Ichigo squatted to regard the man at eye level. Only moonlight streamed in the windows to provide them some light, but he could still make out the tint of blue in his hair, a strong jaw line and stunningly blue eyes. He was also taken aback by youthful features. He was older than Ichigo, but by no more than a few years, early twenties at most. He wouldn't make it much longer, however, if he didn't get help.

"Who are you?"

"Get away from me," he tried to sound threatening despite the tremors of pain in his voice, and his eyes fell to the long blade in Ichigo's hands.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He made to put the knife down but then thought better of it and slid it far away from them both across the floor back toward his house so if this man did turn out dangerous it wouldn't be in his reach. "You're going to bleed out."

"Just leave me alone, I'll go as soon as I patch myself up."

"You didn't seem to be doing a very good job of that before." Ichigo reached for his blood covered hands. "Let me see."

"I said screw off." But in his attempt to push Ichigo back he revealed the oozing wound to the teen.

"Oh shit." Ichigo stood. "I'm calling an ambulance." His ankle was caught before he could move.

"No!"  
"You're dying!"  
"I'll be fine."

"You broke in here."

"I swear I'll leave when I stitch this up."  
"There's no way you can. I at least have to get my father, he's a doctor."

"He'll call the police."

"You're a gang member. Of course he will, but at least you'll live."

"No I won't." He swallowed hard, the pain was winning out and his grip on Ichigo slackened. "Because they'll kill me."

"The police?"

"No...the others..." his hand hit the tile, it seemed all he could do to keep his eyes open. Ichigo lowered himself again and stared the man dead on.

"What's you're name?"

Blue eyes narrowed, but blood loss or desperation must have loosened his tongue because he answered.

"Grimmjow. Grimmjow Jaggerjaques."

And he fainted.

* * *

**_Well, I hesitated on this one for a very long time due to very adult material that will occur later on in the story. I am still uncomfortable with sex scenes, but at the same time I keep writing them because my fics are mature and so mature content naturally arises. Anyway, this is an AU, I understand not everyone is interested in that, but I rather like this story so I hope a few of you will stick with it._**

**_Thanks,_**

**_Riza._**


	2. Chapter 2

An orange haze glinted off sterilized metal but was muted by the ghost of a fog that had developed as the cool October air streamed into the clinic from the open window. Ichigo returned the last instrument to its place and ran the cloth over the counter one last time to make sure he'd cleaned up every speck of blood.

"Hell." The voice made him turn. He dropped the cloth and came to his side on the metal table. Grimmjow was still swallowing back the cottony feeling in his mouth. His eyes struggled to focus but eventually found the face above him and settled there for several long seconds before he spoke again.

"You...what's going on?"

"I sewed you up." Ichigo turned to the fresh stitches just above the man's hip. "Front and back. The bullet when straight through."

"You...how?"

"You broke in here, remember? Did you notice it was attached to a house? I'm the son of the doctor who owns this clinic. But I'm not a doctor, and I don't know if there was any other damage. I thought you were going to die."

"Shit." He did his best to sit, getting first to his elbows and looking down his naked torso. Fresh bruises painted his muscular body. Ichigo had seen several dark spots on his back as well and a black eye marred the young man's otherwise handsome features. He inspected the stitches for a moment before pushing himself up all the way.

"Careful," Ichigo warned him when he swung his legs over the table.

"Damn." He stopped voluntarily when the room spun and his head became light on his shoulders. The only thing that kept him from falling off the table was the teen's hands bracing him.

"You lost way too much blood. You need to go to the hospital."

"No..." When the room calmed, Grimmjow brought his head back up to face Ichigo. "Why did you do this?"

Ichigo didn't answer right away. He'd been asking himself that same question the whole night: when he'd patched him up with his mediocre skills; when he'd started cleaning up the evidence; when he'd had plenty of time to leave and call the police but didn't. "You said you would be killed if you were caught by the police."

"So you sewed me up yourself?"

Ichigo nodded.

"Then I owe you one, kid." He slid off the table, legs barely holding up and Ichigo caught his arm when he stumbled.

"You shouldn't be moving."

"I need to, and I'm betting you don't want to get caught any more than I do." His sharp eyes had caught Ichigo's thorough clean up job. It was true, Ichigo had worried all night about what would happen if Grimmjow didn't wake and Isshin came down to discover what had transpired.

"Where are my clothes?"

Ichigo grabbed his jacket but he'd had to cut away his shirt and it was now shoved deep with other garbage. He helped him struggle into blood caked leather.

"People will notice."

"No people around yet," Grimmjow grunted as they made their way to the clinic door. Ichigo slid the lock back to let him out. "I take it you won't be talking about this."

"As long as you do me the same favour," Ichigo returned.

"Glad we have an understanding." He limped out, still looking like he might collapse any second, but he paused to look back at the teen. "And, kid."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He stepped out onto the sidewalk and Ichigo watched him move onto a side path and disappear in the trees. Heart pounding, he shut the clinic again and hurried back up the stairs into the house and to his bedroom before anyone could notice he'd never made it there last night.

* * *

That night haunted Ichigo for weeks. He watched the news obsessively the next few days, expecting to see news of a body found dead, amateur stitches the main evidence in the case. Or that the broken window in their clinic was linked back the incident in the alley on the same day.

But neither happened. As far as he knew, the blue haired stranger had survived and made it back to wherever he'd come from. Or, he had been found by the gang members and no one would ever find a body.

Ichigo chose to believe the first option, but the night still never left him. He was changed. He'd done something so reckless, so stupid, and yet he had saved a life, he had done something incredible. And he couldn't breathe a word of it. As hard as he tried to study at school or work at home, he could not leave that night behind, and he could not stop thinking about Grimmjow Jaggerjaques.

Even if his closest friends knew something had changed in him, they didn't know why, and eventually, no one noticed any more. Exams came up, Ichigo spent hours a day cooped up in his room studying for the most important tests of his life: these would determine his eligibility for universities. Everyone stressed. They took evening courses in preparation. Even with the growing violence in their town, all the students made the trek through the streets at night to get to the school or maybe to a private tutor.

There was a stabbing. It was supposedly unrelated to the gangs, but everyone was still worried that intercity warfare had spread to their town.

Exams concluded. The city quieted as all its senior students heaved a collective sigh of relief and seemed intent on sleeping for a week. But not Ichigo. Sleep was less comforting now, he found himself listening to the night, as if he expected Grimmjow to return, or more activity to take place in the clinic. So when Keigo texted him at quarter to midnight asking if he wanted to play the latest video game, he agreed, rolled out of bed and crept out of the house without a sound so his father wouldn't question where he was going.

He never made it to Keigo's. Ichigo was on his way to the apartment complex where Keigo and his sister lived, but stopped short before a street corner. The building on the corner was an apartment complex with a pub at street level with wide glass windows. Ichigo had sworn he'd seen a glimpse of blue hair enter and he stood now, squinting through smoke hazed glass.

There. At the bar, hand up to order a drink, his hair the same wild mess it had been the night he'd collapsed on the clinic floor.

Ichigo went inside.

He stood just inside the door, not really sure what he was aiming to do. They'd promised to keep each other's secret, would approaching him in public put that at risk? It wasn't like anyone suspected anything, and Ichigo knew no one here, mostly because he was underage.

"What are you after, smallfry?" A burly man turned to him, undeserved menace in his face. Ichigo held his ground but was lost for words.

"It's you." A second voice cut in and the big man stepped back when Grimmjow eased him aside.

"Yeah..." Ichigo's uncertainty was written in his face. Grimmjow knew at once he'd come here innocently, not knowing what he was after, so he smiled.

"I owe you a drink."

Ichigo allowed himself to be lead to the bar and no one seemed to question his age when Grimmjow ordered up a second beer. They took them to a booth along the bricked wall and sat in more relative privacy.

"What's up, kid? Not changing your mind about our arrangement?"

"No," Ichigo said quickly. "I guess, I just saw you and I followed you in."

Grimmjow took a drink. "So you ain't after anything?"

"Like what?"

"Dunno. Money or something."

"No."

"Well you should be kid, geeze, you don't know how to play your hand at all."

"I'm not trying to play anything. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"You were worried about me? How sweet," he mocked. Ichigo blushed and clenched his jaw.

"Screw you, I could have let you-"

"Shut up, alright. I was joking." Grimmjow cut him off from saying anything incriminating. Ichigo only blushed deeper at his near screw up and took a drink of his beer. He'd had beer before, at Keigo's, but it seemed to hit him hard this time. He didn't mind, he could use the edge of confidence it brought.

"I'm alright, by the way. Felt like shit for a while, but as you can see, I'm good as new."

It had been roughly six weeks, and Grimmjow did look a far sight better than when Ichigo had met him bleeding to death on the floor.

"That's good." Ichigo took another drink, feeling the awkwardness growing.

"Listen kid, I appreciate what you did and I don't forget my debts, so here," he reached for his back pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

"No," Ichigo refused. "That's not why I did it."

"Doesn't matter. Take it."

"I can't."

"You can."

"No I really can't. How would I explain it? I don't even have time for a job, there's no way I could explain coming into this kind of cash. It would cause me more trouble than it's worth."

Grimmjow watched him carefully but took the money back. "Fine, then I'll hold onto it for you until you need it."

"I don't want it."

"You might, some day. Come find me when you do."

He threw back the rest of his beer and Ichigo took that as his cue to do the same and leave. Grimmjow followed him to the door but did not join him in the street. Ichigo had a good guess Grimmjow lived in one of the above apartments.

He stood alone on the street corner, feeling the tingle of the beer in his head and limbs. He let out a long breath, considering his next move. He didn't feel like going home, but he also didn't want to see Keigo now.

"Hey smallfry, what you doing out here all by yourself?" He turned to find the giant of a man who had addressed him earlier sidling out of the pub. It was clear he had knocked back more than one beer since Ichigo's arrival and he leered at him now with a look Ichigo had never before been the butt of. "You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?"

Repulsed, he pulled his hands out of his pocket and took a step back from the man. He was good enough in a fight, but he really didn't want to put his less than sober skills to the test against this giant.

"Come here." The man made to grab him by the shirt collar but Ichigo moved back faster. What he didn't manage to avoid was the wild strike the man threw with his other hand, catching Ichigo in the left cheek. The force was greater than anything someone his own age could deliver and Ichigo hit the ground, tasting blood.

"Asshole." Anger burned in him and he launched himself up again but his shoulder was caught in a vice grip and the hand drew back to strike him again.

"Dick!"

The man lurched when his knee gave out as he was struck from behind. He crashed to earth but got no reprieve as Grimmjow's fist ploughed into the side of his head. The man dragged Ichigo with him as he fell. Ichigo once again picked himself up off the ground, ready to fight, but it was over now. Grimmjow struck until the blood flowed free down the man's face and he panted and gasped on the asphalt. Grimmjow stepped back but served a warning kick into the man's sizable gut.

"You do not mess with him." His voice dripped with anger and for a moment Ichigo didn't know which man frightened him most: his attacker or his rescuer. But Grimmjow straightened, still panting from the effort and drew his eyes up to Ichigo. "Shit, your bleeding."

"What?" Ichigo raised his hand to where he'd been struck. His cheek burned red hot but he hadn't noticed the drip of blood coming from his lips until he tasted it now. "Crap."

"Come here." Grimmjow didn't wait for him to respond, he grabbed Ichigo's coat sleeve and hauled him back inside.

They avoided the bar and took a side door, stomping up to the second level. There were only a few doors. Grimmjow threw his door open and pulled Ichigo inside. The noise of the bar streamed up from the floorboards as well as the whiff of smoke and alcohol. Ichigo tripped on clothes that had been discarded on the floor and noted a general state of disarray all around the apartment but Grimmjow didn't slow down until they were in a small bathroom.

Some tiles were broken, the light bulb above them was bare and there was hardly enough room for them to both stand between toilet and sink.

"Here." Grimmjow handed him a sterile wipe from the medicine cabinet and then looked him up and down. "Where else did he hit you?"

"Nowhere."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay good." He pulled him back into the living room and instructed him to sit in a chair at what Ichigo took for the kitchen table, though it was half buried under magazines and crusted dishes. Grimmjow continued into the kitchen and pulled a bag of peas from the freezer.

"Put that on it." He handed the bag to Ichigo and he did as instructed. "You'll probably still have a good bruise there in the morning."

"Damn. How am I supposed to explain that? I snuck out of the house."

This brought a twitch of a smile to the Grimmjow, as if the thought somehow amused him, but he suppressed it and did his best to sympathize with the teen.

"I don't suggest saying you were with me."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"Any chance you can pass it off as happening at school?"

"No, we had exams, there was no chance for fights."

"Well then you're boned kid, unless you want to say you walked into the door."

That actually sounded like his best option but he didn't say this. Instead his eyes dropped to rapidly swelling knuckles.

"Shit, you should ice those." Grimmjow glanced down at his hands as if only now noticing, though that was impossible as they must have hurt like hell. He obviously hadn't wanted Ichigo to notice but now that the cat was out of the bag, he rose again to get another bag of frozen vegetables before sitting back down.

"Did you break them?"

"I'll be fine."

"I can reset them."

"I can take care of it."

Ichigo sighed and dropped the bag of peas. "Here."

He held out his hand and waited. Grimmjow made a noise but slid his right hand across the table. His left was bruised but not as bad as this. Ichigo quickly noted his middle finger was disjointed, not broken, but out of place.

"Here we go." He yanked back on the finger with no other warning and Grimmjow slammed his boot into the floor boards as the pain struck. He bit back the scream however and just let out a thick breath.

"Shit." But he inspected the digit. "Thanks, kid."

"I should be thanking you. Only reason their messed up is 'cause I couldn't handle my own fight."

"That's guy's a dick, he had it coming. He's always giving me the eye at the bar, fucking disgusting."

"Grimmjow."

"Yeah?"

"Are you a member of the gangs?"

"I thought that was obvious."

"It was, until I came here."

Grimmjow gave a half chuckle. "Yeah, not exactly paradise is it? If I was in a gang, I'd be better off, that's what you're thinking right?"

"Yeah."

"Interesting."

"Well?"

"Well nothing, kid. I owe you, but I ain't talking to you about this shit. Now then," he reached for his wallet again.

"I said I wasn't taking your money."

"Easy kid." He slid a bill over the table, "for the cab you're gonna to take home." He stood.

"Oh." Ichigo took it and stood as well, following Grimmjow to the door.

"In future, don't hang out on street corners in front of seedy pubs."

"Got it." The door shut at his back before he could say thanks again.

He sighed, face tightening as the swelling gained ground. "Shit."

* * *

_**Glad to see some interest in this one! Thanks for your reviews! **_

_**Riza**_


	3. Chapter 3

"You walked into a door?"

"I was barely awake. I just needed to take a piss."

"How did your face hit first? I mean, wouldn't it be your hand?"

"Shut up, Keigo."

"Is that why you blew me off last night? You could have at least texted me."

"Just leave it alone, Keigo." Ichigo gave his friend one of those looks that effectively shut down the conversation and they entered class.

Fortunately, all the questions about his split lip and bruised cheek were answered in the morning mill-about in the courtyard before the bell sounded. Ichigo did his best to listen to the teacher as she gave a rundown of their new course work for the semester. His agenda was already full following the first period—he didn't relish finding out what other work might be headed his way the rest of the day.

He already had three assignments due by the end of the week, several more throughout the month. The weeks rattled on in a haze of work. His bruise faded and he almost forgot about the blue haired man above the pub, though he saw Grimmjow, from time to time, having a smoke just outside the pub doors. The pub was one block out of his way, but at some point, without even realizing it, Ichigo had added that street corner into his route home.

They never spoke. Grimmjow didn't exactly blank him, he would just sort of give a nod that said he did not want any further engagement than that. Ichigo got the impression it was best they have no more to do with one another. He knew that was the case for himself especially, and he was sure the criminal had no desire to be seen hanging out with a high school student.

Still, he walked by every day. And every night he still thought about him bleeding out in the clinic, or throwing him that bag of peas to ice his face.

They didn't speak again until January, when white powder coated the sidewalk and everyone bustled along in heavy winter coats. It was dark, it was late, and there weren't many people around. Ichigo had his backpack lazily over one shoulder. He was returning from basketball practice, still steaming and energized. So when he felt the pair come up on him from behind, he turned with more enthusiasm for the encounter than they expected.

"Yo, orange." He recognized the two teens from a basketball game last week. He'd scored on them multiple times.

"What?"

"We're playing your team again next week."

"Yeah, we are, aren't we?"

"Why don't you wipe that smug smile off your face? We're gonna beat Karakura High no problem."

"Oh, like you did last time?" He knew very well he shouldn't be provoking them. But he did it anyway. He was tired of people thinking they could tramp all over him.

"You know what, Lin?" One turned to the other, "I think it would best if our friend here wasn't in the game."

"Yeah, I think you're right, Gino. Maybe a couple broken fingers? Maybe even a wrist."

"Just what I was thinking."

"Go ahead and give it a try." Ichigo dropped his bag and threw up his knee just as the first lunged on him. The guy gagged at the combined force of his momentum and Ichigo's driving kneecap. Spit flew from his mouth and he dropped to hands and knees in dirty snow. Ichigo ducked the next swing from his companion and came up with a hook straight to the gut. This one also doubled over and staggered next to his friend.

"We done?" Ichigo picked up his bag but it was caught by the one named Lin. "Let go."

"Asshole," Lin spat. Ichigo gave another tug but didn't free his bag.

"He said, let go." The icy voice dripped from the shadows. Ichigo stiffened, wondering how long Grimmjow had been watching them. He eased himself off the brick wall now and regarded the pair with a look that said they were nothing more than dirt.

"Who the Hell are-"  
Grimmjow moved into the teen, his hand going low and gripping tight on one very sensitive part of the human body.

"Shit!" The student's voice shot high.

"Shit is right. Now if you wanna keep what you got, you'll back the fuck off and never show your face in these parts again."

The kid looked near fainting by the time Grimmjow released him. He staggered back into his friend who grabbed him by the shoulders and propelled him away down the street. Grimmjow laughed loud at their cowardice but when he turned back to Ichigo he was met with a glare.

"What?"

"Why the Hell did you interfere? You made me look like a pussy."

"Geeze kid, I thought I was doing you a favour."

"Fuck off." Ichigo spun and left him stunned before the pub.

Grimmjow watched him go, shoulders hunched, hands shoved in pockets. He narrowed his eyes. "Tch, asshole."

* * *

Ichigo hovered in the hallway outside room number six. It was the evening of the following day. He had stopped outside the pub for a long time, hoping to catch sight of Grimmjow, but he hadn't, so he'd come up here to see if he was home.

He felt bad about his outburst yesterday. He wasn't sure if it was the stress of all his work or just the adrenaline after practice but he'd lost it for pretty much no reason. Yes, he was mad Grimmjow had interfered, but he shouldn't have said anything, the other had only tried to help him out.

He knocked.

"What?" The look that came at him through the crack in the door was nothing short of stone cold.

"I uh..." Ichigo should have expected such harsh treatment but it still threw him. "About yesterday, I'm sorry."

"I don't really give a shit, kid. Later."

Ichigo winced when the door struck his toe but he kept it wedged where he had impulsively stuck it.

"I still think I could have handled it," he continued, "but I shouldn't have flipped at you."

"Get your foot out of my door."

"Grimm- Do I smell burning?"

"Shit." Grimmjow abandoned his attempt to shut Ichigo out in order to race back into the kitchen where something was now smoking in the oven. Ichigo took the opportunity to step inside, though the hail of curses made him reconsider the move.

"Dammit." Grimmjow dropped a smouldering bake pan on the top of the burners and waved the oven mitt through the air in an attempt to clear the smoke. Ichigo moved over to a window and let in fresher air before the fire alarm went off—assuming this place even had one. But the motion brought Grimmjow's attention back over to him.

"Who the Hell invited you in?"

"Sorry, I just...uhg, never mind. All I wanted to do was apologize, I don't even know why I bothered."

"Neither do I, now I've got charred chicken for dinner, friggin' fantastic."

"Sorry."

"Just get out." He dropped the mitt and came around the counter toward Ichigo, shooing him toward the open door. "Before you do more damage."

"Fine." Grimmjow followed him to the threshold. Ichigo stepped into the hall but turned back to the blue haired man. "Just...for what it's worth, thanks for stepping in, _even_ if I didn't need your help."

He never got a chance to see Grimmjow's reaction to his words. For a moment, he thought he was considering them deeply, but then he realized azure eyes were focused over his shoulder instead and suddenly a hand was dragging him back in, the door clanking shut at his back.

"Grimmjow, what-"

"In here." Grimmjow shoved him to the closet. Ichigo glimpsed the messy interior and started to protest but he was firmly stuffed inside before the door slammed shut.

"Grimmjow!" he called, but his voice was echoed by others much stronger, coming from the hall. There was a loud bang and he knew someone had struck the apartment door with a foot or something more solid.

Ichigo pressed tight to the closet door. This building was old, and the door had warped in its frame, giving him a sizeable gap through which to peer. Grimmjow must have known this because he looked straight at him through the crack and hissed in a whisper,

"Do not make a sound. And whatever you do, do not interfere."

Then he turned to the apartment door and Ichigo lost sight of him for a second.

"JAGGERJAQUES!"

The door opened and a pounding fist hit nothing but air. One person stumbled into sight. Ichigo heard a second shove Grimmjow and all three came into view. The second man kicked the door shut behind him, but Ichigo wasn't watching him. His eyes were fixed on the first man, who held not a revolver, but a full shotgun between his hands. And it was currently pointed right at the side of Grimmjow's head.

"The Hell do you two want?" Grimmjow asked as if he wasn't inches away from having his brains become part of the decor of his apartment.

"You owe us big time."

"I don't owe you shit."

"You undercut us, stole a key client, now you're gonna make up for our losses."

"Oh am I? Take a look around you, boys, does it look like I've got that kind of money?"

"Oh save it. Now get the cash or we start tearing things apart."

"I'll give you another option." Grimmjow turned, the muzzle of the gun raking through his hair until it was against his forehead. "Walk now and I'll let you go uninjured."

The gunman's eye's narrowed, and Ichigo saw the second man's hand hover at his waist- he no doubt also had a gun. "You're one hot piece of shit, you know?"

"Yeah, actually," and everything in Grimmjow seemed to tense, muscles coil, like a predator about to eat its prey, "I do."

It happened so fast Ichigo wasn't even sure he had seen it at all. Grimmjow's left came up nearly too fast to see, swatting the barrel away from his skull. Simultaneously, his right came up to dislodge the gun from its owner. In a mere second, Grimmjow had it free and spun from one man to the next, holding the shot gun by its barrel and swinging like a baseball batter, striking the second man in the side of the head with the solid wooden butt of the riffle. When he completed his 360, he was facing his original opponent.

The disarmed man made a wild lunge, Grimmjow sidestepped and threw his knee into the man's gut, using his own momentum against him. He spun him into his partner and before either could right themselves, flipped the gun around and trained it on them. The whole ordeal had taken less than ten or fifteen seconds, and Grimmjow stood calm and poised as he stared down at them.

"Now, if you're done, kindly get the Fuck out of my apartment, and we'll call it a night."

"Shit." The one who'd been struck in the side of the head was half limp, and his partner had to drag him up. Grimmjow kept the gun on them the whole time. "Motherfucker."

"Night boys." Grimmjow walked them into the hall. A moment later Ichigo heard the door shut and several locks click into place. Before giving Ichigo the okay to leave his cover, Grimmjow went to the window that Ichigo had opened earlier and watched for the pair to reach the street.

Ichigo deemed it safe and stepped out of the closet. He caught Grimmjow watching a car, and guessed he was taking note of the vehicle.

"How did you do that?"

Grimmjwo turned sharply, as if he had forgotten the teen. Then he relaxed a bit and shut the window, the air plenty cleared by now. "They were morons." He evaded, moving to the fridge where he pulled out a beer. He cracked it and Ichigo watched him down the whole can in one go. He gave a sigh, then a belch, then cracked another.

"No, I mean, you moved so fast, it was insane. It was like something out of a movie."

"Tch, you're a dork, kid."

"You can keep avoiding the truth or you could just tell me."

"Or you could just get out of my fucking apartment."

"Yeah." But Ichigo hesitated. "Or you could give me a beer."

Blue eyes watched him, appraising, then turned back to the window. "You can't go yet anyway, they might have just done a loop and come back to case the place." He got another can which he tossed to Ichigo. "Pain in my ass."

"So."

They sat on the couch that faced a twenty inch which straddled two stacks of books.

"So what?"

"Do you have special training?"

"Hmm. Yeah, I guess I do."

"Military?"

"Better."

"What?"

"None of your damn business."

"Okay fine. Tell me this then, are you in a gang?"

"Do I look like I'm in a gang?"

"Well...no but-"

"Exactly. I work for me kid, and no one else."

"But what do you do?"

"Nothing you need to know about."

"That night you were shot, was it people like them?"

"Yup. Pretty similar circumstances actually. But that's all you need to know."

He rose, having finished another beer, but instead of returning to the fridge, he picked up the rifle and went to a pair of scuffed floor boards. He stomped down on the end of them and they popped up, revealing about a foot gap between his floorboards and the ceiling rafters of the pub below. In this space, he deposited the weapon and stamped the boards back into place.

Ichigo wondered what else he might be hiding in there.

Grimmjow then moved back to the window. "Hmm, looks clear. But you never know," he reached for his wallet as he had last time and pulled out a bill. "Take a cab."

Ichigo sighed, putting his half empty beer on the table. He was interested in this man, and he still had questions, but he also didn't think overstaying his welcome would gain him any ground.

"Alright." He took the money even though he had enough himself, and headed back across the room. "Sorry about the chicken." The burnt meat was still sitting on the stove top.

"Just get out of here."

Grimmjow watched him go from the window. Ichigo hailed a cab from the street corner, and even though he never turned back, he was sure he was being watched the whole time from two stories above.

What he didn't know, was he was being watched from elsewhere as well.

* * *

**_Thanks again for the reviews! _**

**_Riza_**


	4. Chapter 4

"Since when did you go this way?" Ichigo hadn't even thought of it when he'd turned down the block that was cornered by the pub. Keigo was next to him, they were headed for his house to do homework.

"I don't know, I just do," Ichigo answered.

"Oh." But when they reached the pub and Ichigo spotted Grimmjow leaned against the wall taking a long drag on his cigarette, he couldn't help his reaction. A week now, he'd walked past and seen no sign of him. True, he didn't always see Grimmjow outside or glimpse him at the bar- but in a week he saw him at least three times. But every day since he'd dropped off the untouched fast food, he hadn't seen a sign of him, just like the bartender had said. Looking up, he had found his blinds drawn every day without fail.

So now, when he saw him, and their eyes met, there was no mistaking the look that passed between them, the slightest falter in Ichigo's step as if he intended to stop and then thought better of it.

"Did you know him?" Keigo questioned when they rounded the corner, a bit alarmed. There was nothing friendly looking about Grimmjow, his usual scowl in place, cold eyes and a stance that read: cross me and you die.

"Who?"

"That guy back there. You can't deny it, I saw the way he looked back at you."

"We've run into each other a few times is all."

"Where? What would you be doing that you would come across the likes of him?"

"Nowhere, geeze Keigo, what's with the third degree?"

"I don't know, you tell me, you've just seemed different lately and now I find out you're friends with sum scum bag gangster-"

"We're not friends, Keigo, I just recognized him from walking past this place every day. Stop making a big deal about it."

"Fine, but you have seemed different. I don't know what it is, but it's like you're always somewhere else in your mind."

"That's because I'm always thinking about tests and projects like everyone else!"

"If you say so, but I know you Ichigo," he looked at him sideways, the serious expression rare on his normally jovial features, "and something's going on. But if you don't want to talk about it, then I won't push you."

Ichigo just nodded, he couldn't say much that wouldn't confirm his friend's suspicions. But he also couldn't help the questions Keigo had stirred in him. Just why was he so interested in the pseudo gangster? Why wasn't he concentrating on his school work and his future?

Was it possible that all that normalcy he strove for, wasn't what he really wanted?

* * *

"You look horrible, are you going to tell me what happened?" They were at the skate park, a very different setting for their usual conversations but Ichigo had noticed him leaning on the rail when he'd gone to meet his friends for an afternoon on the ice. He wasn't sure what Grimmjow was up to, but he seemed to be trying to blend in, and having Ichigo at his side would help him do that. Several times in their conversation he glanced back, as if looking for someone or something.

"I was sick."

"The bartender told me it happens alot."

"Well the bartender should mind his own business."

"You were really strange that day."

"Yeah, cause I was sick."

"Are you sure that's all it was?" Ichigo watched his breath puff out before him in an exasperated sigh.

"Why don't you just say what you're thinking?"

"I'm thinking you look like you've lost weight since we last talked, you're about the colour of the snow and that day I saw you I could have sworn a member of your family had just died. But then the bartender says this happens to you on a regular basis so I can't help think there is something really wrong with you."

"And what's you're prognosis, _doctor_?"

"I can't really tell just from that, but it kind of seems like depression."

Grimmjow balked at this. "You what? I'm not depressed, asshole. I was sick."

He pushed off from the rail but when he started to turn he seemed to think better of it and slouched back next to Ichigo. The teen guessed he was either expecting someone or knew someone was watching him. In either case, he seemed stuck where he was so Ichigo pressed on.

"Sick how? Sick like you can't eat and don't move for days on end and you feel like nothing will ever get better again?"

Grimmjow refused to meet his eyes, but his focus wasn't on the skaters either. "Screw you, kid. You don't know anything."

"I know you could use some help, and I haven't seen you with any other friends. So maybe you should take a breather and let me help you."  
Startled blue eyes turned to him. It was a precarious situation, Ichigo knew that one word and the loner might leave for good, never speak to him again, and all of this—whatever it was—would be over. He'd have to go back to normal life of studying and exams.

"You are a strange one, kid," Grimmjow finally said, anger subsiding, but by the look in his eye, Ichigo thought Grimmjow's attention was now elsewhere. Grimmjow pushed off from the rail. "Later."

"What?" Ichigo watched him turn and caught the pair by the kiosk, their eyes clearly on Grimmjow. He froze. "Whoa, are you really being followed?" He'd suspected, but confirmation was alarming.

"Go find your friends," Grimmjow growled out of the side of his mouth.

"But-"

"You follow me, and these people will turn their attention on you too. And you do _not_ want that. So go find your friends."

He strode away over snowy grass and past the two who had been watching. Seconds after Grimmjow passed them, they set down their mugs of hot beverages at the park kiosk and followed after. Ichigo stood, staring after them, not sure what to do.

"Dammit."

* * *

Grimmjow cut through a less used path in the park, listening for the pair behind him. Many of the park's buildings were closed until summer, and Grimmjow used them as his cover now, hurrying around the back of one.

He was staggered by the fist to his face. He had miscalculated: running only from those behind and not considering those who might be waiting ahead of him.

"Gotcha!" His already bruised face was shoved harshly into the brick wall of the public building and his arm yanked up his back.

"Bastards." Despite his distinct disadvantage, he kicked back and caught a knee. The man behind him swore and staggered and it was enough for him to shove away and try to escape.

A second punch sent him spinning into another man. His shoulders were caught and he expected another strike but this person just held him, hauling him back to his feet and regarding him.

"Dammit, Ikkaku, Yumichika, you weren't supposed to hurt him."

Grimmjow spit the blood that had gathered in his mouth before looking up to the man holding him.

"Yo, Grimmjow," the red head smiled, "been a while."

"One year." Grimmjow looked past him to see his small companion, the short, dark haired woman he recognized from his last encounter with the group. "Rukia," he acknowledged. "Renji." He turned back to the one holding him. "What the Hell are you doing following me?"

"You should ask the same of the other people on your trail."

"What?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"I thought they were with you."

"Nope." Renji let him go. Grimmjow straightened his coat and stood in the middle of them, two behind, two ahead.

"Then who is it?"

"Not sure yet, could be Japanese government, could be Yakuza."

"Great intelligence work, Mr. Interpol," Grimmjow snorted. "So I've got heat on me, and you just thought you'd be kind enough to let me know?"

"No. We want your help."

"_My_ help. Do you not remember what happened the last time we met?" Everyone stiffened. Grimmjow pushed past Renji. "That's what I thought, see ya."

He half expected the hand that grabbed him from behind but not the lightning fast strike from the girl. He wasn't sure just who had done what, but he was back against the wall in less than a second. Renji had his forearm against the back of his neck, keeping him pinned.

"You sure you want to do this?" Grimmjow warned, adrenaline pounding in his ears. "As I recall, you came out pretty rough last time."

"You ain't the same animal you were back then."

Grimmjow let out a bellow, he heaved against Renji, Renji pushed back but Grimmjow used that against him. He dropped low and twisted and it was Renji's turn to face plant in the wall. Grimmjow now expected Rukia's side tackle and as she slid to trip him up, he dropped to his knees and she barely dodged his punch. Up again, he ducked Yumichika and caught him with an elbow but something hit him hard and brutal in the back and he staggered. A second strike cracked hard against his shoulder and he felt the joint pop.

"SHIT!" The pain of the dislocation stole his breath, but the kick served to his gut threatened to suffocate him. He collapsed on his back, gasping hard, black spots filling his vision and the cold of the snow seeping into this bones.

"You idiots!" He heard the high pitched scream but couldn't focus yet. "What the Hell are you doing? We're supposed to talk to him, not cripple him!" Rukia was hysteric, the rest were picking themselves up. Ikkaku put away the night stick that had downed Grimmjow. "He's not enhanced anymore, you could have killed him."

"Sorry," someone muttered. Grimmjow heard the crunch of snow right next to him.

"Grimmjow." He blinked hard, trying to focus. Her hand touched the side of his face and helped steady his gaze. He gave a cough, the tang of copper in it. "Can you sit up?"

He nodded, but it took her help to get him there. He moaned in pain, his shoulder killing him.

"You did it, Ikkaku, so you can put it back."

"Shit." The man dropped behind Grimmjow and took a grip. Their captive stiffened but at the last second Rukia clamped her hand over his mouth so his scream was muffled. He looked faint when it was back in place. When Rukia removed her hand, it was spotted with blood.

"Dammit. We're going to have to take him in now."

"We can't," Renji said above them. "You know he's being watched, that would give the game away. We're losing time as it is, someone's apt to come looking for him."

"Fine." Rukia turned back to Grimmjow. "Grimmjow, whoever is watching you they must be pretty serious. They have enough man power and resources to keep you under twenty-four hour surveillance."

"But you don't know who they are?" He panted.

"No. They never return directly to headquarters and eventually they shake us completely. But this can't be good."

"So? Why do you care about me after all this time?"

"Because the situation is getting worse, and we need a man on the inside."

"Tch. You know I'll never do it. That's what I told you a year ago."

"A year ago you almost died and my brother did." He brought his eyes up at this. Her own were hard, but never could she hide that pain. "A year ago I lost it when I should have seen the opportunity we had with you. But I didn't, and I let them take you back, and for that I am sorry, Grimmjow. We've let you be all this time, but we need you now. And with these people tailing you, you need us as well. I think we can come to an arrangement."

He watched her, breath ragged.

"Do you?" There was no doubting his malice. "You, and your little gang here, can go fuck yourselves."

"Don't." Grimmjow had caught the movement but Rukia stopped Renji from losing his temper and striking him again. "You've done enough damage."

"Well then what? We need him."

"I know." She stood. Grimmjow sat in the middle of them all, trembling from the cold that had soaked through his clothes. "If he won't cooperate then I guess-"

"Grimmjow!" They all turned to the orange haired teen who rounded the corner. No one moved, or spoke, save the teen who looked the mob over quickly, then spotted the wounded man on the ground.

"Shit, get back." He had no weapon, but he moved toward them as if he had an army at his back.

"Woa, kid, back off." Renji put a hand against his chest to stop him.

"You get back. Get away from him."

"This isn't what it looks like, kid." Ichigo turned to the young woman. She didn't exactly look like someone who would be in a gang. Actually, they all had a clean cut sort of look to them, even if the red head had a long pony tail.

"Then what is it?"

"None of your business. Just go."

He balked and looked to Grimmjow. "He's coming with me."

"No, he isn't."

"Just go, kid," Grimmjow said from the ground. "Forget about it."

"The Hell I will."

"Just-"

"NO!" Ichigo stepped over to Grimmjow and held out his hand. "Come on." He was pretty sure he understood now. These weren't gang members, these were officials of some sort, and they had no right to hurt a civilian. So he chose to test the theory and stood above Grimmjow, waiting for him to take his hand.

"Grimmjow," he insisted. The man on the ground took his hand and stood, faltering. Ichigo kept him steady. "Let's go."

"No way," Ikkaku protested.

"No, let them go." Rukia sighed. "We can't take him in and we can't stay, at least now he's got help."

"Ma'am, I-"

"Our options are limited at this time. Let them go."

"Fine." Ikkaku stepped away. The pair moved forward.

"But Grimmjow," Rukia called, "We'll be in touch."

He said nothing. Ichigo kept an arm around him and they cleared the scene.

* * *

"Get off, I'm fine." Grimmjow dropped onto the park bench, on the other side of the skating rink. Ichigo stood before him, watching him struggle to keep his breathing steady as he dabbed at his bleeding nose with the paper towel Ichigo had retrieved.

"Who were those people?"

"None of your business." He cursed when he pulled the tissue back to find blood still fresh. But the scrapes on his face and his slowly swelling nose weren't what made his features crease in pain and sweat build on his brow. His left arm was unmoving, he'd held it the whole walk here.

"Is it broken?"

"No. It's fine now."

"Doesn't look it."

"They popped it back for me."

"They dislocated it?" Ichigo watched his nonchalance at the violence done to him with building annoyance. "Grimmjow, you need to open up to me."

"I don't need to do shit." He stood suddenly, holding his arm but losing none of his menace. "I told you not to get involved. I told you not to follow me! But you did! You idiot, you have no idea what you could fucked up, what you could have walked into!"

"Grimmjow-"

"No! Shut the hell up and get out of here before you screw up any worse. I'm not someone you should be around. You're a fucking high school student, what the Hell do you think you're playing at? I don't want you around me and I don't want to see you around the pub anymore."

Ichigo stood his ground, watching the emotions roll off of Grimmjow. He was angry, yes, but it was more than that. Whatever those people wanted from him, whatever they had said, unsettled him. He seemed to be waiting for Ichigo to shirk away from his screams, but it didn't happen and they ended up just staring at one another.

"Yo, Ichigo!" The call startled them both, and Ichigo cringed, hearing Keigo's voice. The other already had suspicions and now they would surely double.

"Stay away from me," Grimmjow growled low to the teen before stepping away and walking down the path. Keigo came even with Ichigo.

"Not friends, huh?" He said it in a half whisper, the others were coming up behind them and when he turned around he was all smiles, making some joke about Mizuiro's hat and they all moved down to the ice. Keigo never spoke of Grimmjow, and Ichigo was thankful for his silence, but their afternoon of fun on the ice was spoiled for him as his eyes shifted constantly over the crowds, his thoughts returned always to the man above the pub.

* * *

Grimmjow stomped heavily up the steps to his apartment. He fell across his bed with the intention of never moving again, body cold and throbbing with aches all over, but the words of the four rattled in his mind and he couldn't drift off and find rest.

He rose again, stripping, even in the cold of his apartment, and went into the bathroom to unearth whatever pain pills he could find.

"Shit." He swore, swallowing them dry. "When did I get so fucking weak?" He asked his reflection in the speckled mirror. Turning, he found a large dark bruise over his shoulder, raised skin shiny and swollen. His entire shoulder grated in the socket, he didn't know if that was normal or how long it would take to pass. His stomach was also badly bruised from the kick and his face was scrapped from being repeatedly shoved into rough brick.

But even as he cursed them, fighting to get his arm through a shirt sleeve, he couldn't really blame them.

It had been a very different outcome last time they'd met.

Fresh clothes on and painkillers well in his system, he went to the window, beer in hand, and pretended to look nonchalantly on the city street below. But it was anything but. He saw the black car, probably the Interpol agents. But it wasn't them he was looking for.

Cars lined the streets, he couldn't tell if anyone else down there was watching him, so he turned his gaze upward, as he took a swig of his beer. Other apartments stared back at him, their windows squarely facing one another. With his naked eye, he could see nothing out of the ordinary, but that didn't mean no one was watching him through their blinds. He stepped back from the window, unease growing in him, and pulled out his phone.

His fingers automatically brought up the contact, but he didn't dial, his brain kicked in before he could go that far. Still, he stared at the name, and wondered how long it would take to break the habit of bringing it up every time he was in trouble.

Maybe never.

"Damn." He swallowed hard, sitting on his couch and pressing his phone into his forehead before using that hand to sweep back messy hair. He dropped the phone on the table before him and lay back stiffly, forgetting his beer, and giving into the weight of the pills.

* * *

_**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

_**Riza**_


	5. Chapter 5

Exhaustion painted the face that met him on the street corner. Grimmjow threw his stub on the ground the moment he saw him.

"I told you to stay away from here."

"Relax, I'm going to Reid's." Ichigo pointed to the bookstore just across from the pub. It was a lie—well it was an excuse to come this way.

"Then get going."

"I will. But it's been a week and you look like shit. I thought maybe you'd-"

"Get. The Hell. Away." Grimmjow was in his face, and Ichigo could smell the vodka that was mixed in with the cigarette smoke. It was three in the afternoon.

"You're drunk."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Are they still watching you?"

"I said fuck off!" Grimmjow shoved him hard. Ichigo tripped off the side walk and stepped backwards onto the street. He caught a beeping horn and headlights and then the shocking cold spray of slush washed up his back and knew how close he'd come to being run over.

His heart pounded. Grimmjow looked just as shocked, nearly having killed the teen. He glanced sideways, as if he knew someone was watching in that direction, then back to Ichigo who was still collecting himself.

"I told you to stay away." Was all he said in defence before pushing back inside the pub doors.

Ichigo came up shakily onto the sidewalk, waiting for his body and mind to calm after the close call. His eyes flicked up to the room above and he saw the blinds part briefly, haunted eyes behind them. As frightened as Ichigo had just been, he had the feeling that was just a taste of the fear Grimmjow had been dealing with all week long.

* * *

"You nearly killed that kid today. You're losing it, Grimmjow."

Silence from his end. He just waited for the voice on the phone to continue.

"Listen, how is this any worse than doing what we ask?"

"Rukia." He swallowed back his drink before continuing. "You act like you don't remember what happened a year ago. You act like what you did to me was easy."

"We saved you."

"Yeah, and then you let him take me back after you swore you'd protect me."

"I know..."

"And I saved myself, I got away."

"I know."

"And you came to me, and you were a wreck because they killed your brother to get me back. And you blamed me. And you screamed, but you promised you'd let me go. You promised."

"I know."

"So why now? It can't be coincidence. You've been watching me this whole time."

"We haven't," she countered. "But you're name's come up in more than one group we're keeping tabs on. So we had to hunt you out."

"Why? Tell me what they're after?" He stood from his couch and went to the window, bending a blind to look out on the streets below.

"We aren't sure exactly, but it's easy to guess. You escaped him. You escaped Aizen. You're alone, unprotected, and _alive._ You're the only one we or anyone knows of that could provide any information on him and what he did to you."

"So why haven't you just hauled me in, whisked me back to America or somewhere?"

"Because we need to know who else is after what Aizen created, and how close to replicating it they are. If this stuff ever hit the streets, or got sold to another country it would be chaos. We've even gotten wind North Korea has men on the ground in Tokyo trying to get in touch with him."

"I'm sure they do." Grimmjow eased himself back onto the couch, the room unsteady and he decided he'd had enough to drink. "But I don't think Aizen is in the business of sharing. Profit, isn't exactly his goals."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me, I know the man. He's not doing this for money, it's for power, strength, control."

"Is that what he promised you?"

Grimmjow grit his teeth. "I'm not getting into this shit again. The point of the matter is this: you're using me as bait to draw these people out, aren't you?"

"Yes. If you won't go undercover for us, this is our only option."

"Bitch."

"Call me what you want, Grimmjow, but at least you have us covering your back. Otherwise, you'd be in this alone."

"Yeah, 'cause you were such a big help last time." She held the silence. He shut his eyes and let out a breath of frustration. "These people watching me, where are they?"

"We don't know, they're like ghosts, but you must have noticed them by now."

"Barely. I don't know if I ever would have if you hadn't brought it up." He let out a slow breath. "So you don't know when they might make their move?"

"No. If they're Japanese government, then it will be quick and smooth and we can easily get jurisdiction over them. But if it's gangs or someone else, then it could get ugly."

"Great."

"We're watching you twenty-four-seven, but if you decide to do what we ask then we'll get you out of here right now."

"Rukia, do you remember who I was when you brought me in?"  
"Of course I do."

"Well so do I. I'm not going back to that, no matter what." There was a long pause, and even though she was just a voice in the phone, Grimmjow could see those eyes drop to the ground. He knew she didn't want to ask that of him, and that she didn't really agree with using him like this. But her hands were tied.

"I'm sorry, Grimmjow, for how everything turned out."

"Yeah. Me too." He snapped his phone shut and sighed long and listened to the ruckus of the bar below.

* * *

Ichigo shivered in the winter air outside the pub. It was rolling around to four weeks since the last time Grimmjow had stayed cooped up in his room for days. Ichigo wasn't sure if these bouts were triggered by something or if they actually came about once a month but he had watched Grimmjow's condition deteriorate over the past four weeks.

Not that they spoke. As far as Ichigo knew, the man hated him now, but he refused to go back to his old walking route, and he still passed the pub every day. Sometimes Grimmjow would be staring so intently down the street at a vehicle he didn't even seem to notice Ichigo. Sometimes he looked to be staggeringly drunk in the early afternoon. He spotted him in town, too, mixed into large crowds, pretending to be interested in what was in store windows, but if Ichigo looked close enough at the reflection, blue eyes were always looking back over his shoulder.

He was waiting for something to happen. And it was wearing on him.

He seemed to always clutch his phone too, as if it might bring him some peace, safety, answers.

It finally happened on February third. Once again, Ichigo and his friends came upon the scene on their way home from school. It was by chance, really, that they had cut down a different road to reach Keigo's first, they didn't even go by the pub, but they heard the sirens and the night cracked with gunshots. Ichigo despaired, because something in him just knew who was at the centre of it.

There was a body, this time. By the time Ichigo, Keigo and Mizuiro got there, an ambulance had arrived to load it onto a gurney. Ichigo was starting to push forward in the crowd, a desperate quality overtaking his breathing, but Keigo put a firm hand on his shoulder and dragged him back. The look on his face said he knew what Ichigo feared but he forced him to remain calm and wait. There was nothing for them to see anyway, the body was covered and the police were forcing the crowd to disperse.

"I can't believe it, I wonder if it was the same people?" Mizuiro commented as the moved down the street.

"I have to go." Ichigo took a step but Keigo stopped him.

"Ichigo, don't."

"I'm sorry."

"Why, what is it?" The smallest of the group looked between them but his intelligent eyes caught on quickly and he took in a sharp breath of shock. "No, you can't know something about this, Ichigo."

But his question couldn't penetrate the stare down between Keigo and Ichigo.

"I'm sorry," Ichigo just repeated and shook from his grip. He ran. He ran back the streets and up a block until he was at the pub. His heart was thundering, he could hardly catch his breath, but he ran up the stairs to the apartment.

"Grimmjow!" He beat against the door, losing all calm. "Open the door! I can help you!"  
Nothing. He tried the handle but from the two times he'd been in there he knew there were four dead bolts keeping him out. "Dammit."

Then it occurred to him. Where had Grimmjow gone the last time he'd been injured? If he wasn't that body they'd carried out, he could still be stumbling around wounded somewhere. He might go back to the clinic.

Ichigo arrived home in record time. He managed to get into the house and down to the clinic without seeing his family. He turned on all the lights but found not a hair out of place, no bloody fingerprint to indicate Grimmjow had been here.

His heart hit the floor.

He slumped into the kitchen, realizing the man beneath the tarp likely was Grimmjow. He sat in the cold truth of it for a long time before moving into the living room where his father was watching the news.

"Ichigo, I didn't hear you come in, I've been calling you."

"Oh." He hadn't even noticed his phone ring.

"They say he was a member of a gang." Ichigo glimpsed the images on the tv, the scene he'd just left behind—a gurney, police, blood on a brick wall...

"What brings such violence to Karakura?" The news anchor asked. "We don't know, but maybe some answers will be found from the body of the forty two year old male—"  
"Forty-two." Ichigo exclaimed without thinking.

"Yeah."

"I just...I picture gang members to be younger." Ichigo covered lamely. His father gave him an odd look but he headed for the stairs. "Well I have homework to do, night dad."

"...Night."

He thundered up the stairs, ran to his room and locked the door. He waited two hours to hear his father go to bed, as if he half expected his son to slip out into the dead of night once the coast was clear.

Ichigo waited to hear his father go into his room and the lights to dim before sliding his window open and dropping out into the night. He didn't even think about what he was doing as he ran down lamp-lit streets. It was dangerous and stupid, but in ten minutes he was before the pub and heading up the stairs a second time

This time, he knew Grimmjow was inside. On the handle was the distinct sign of blood.

"Grimmjow!" He made to bang on the door but it swung inward under the blow. He stood cautiously in the doorway, taking this as a bad sign. "Grimmjow..."

He at once noticed the floorboard was out of place: the same place where Grimmjow had hidden the shotgun. He took each step carefully, not sure what he was going to find. On the floor were thick spots of blood, and Ichigo followed them straight to the bathroom.

The door was shut.

"Grimmjow?"

Nothing.

"Grimmjow?" he tried again but his nerves were getting the best of him and he just had to know. The knob turned when he tried. He opened the door.

There he was. It was as bad as anything Ichigo had imagined. Grimmjow was soaked to the bone, as if he'd tried to wash the blood off while still fully clothed. But his feet were bare, his shirt lay in a sopping heap next to him, white stained red. He was left with soaking jeans clinging to his shaking body. Ichigo noted rough stitches in his stomach, a quart of vodka, mostly gone now, and a bottle he feared were pain pills spilled across the tile.

Just beyond the shower the shotgun was on the floor, as if forgotten or dropped. His cell phone too, lay next to it.

Grimmjow's head was bowed, one hand over the wound in his side, the other across his knees. His bare torso revealed deep bruising, cuts, a clear hand print in raised flesh at his throat.

"Grimmjow..." Ichigo knelt on the dry tile just beyond the shower. The curtain had been torn down. Grimmjow had likely fallen as he was now. The tap still ran in a slow drizzle, the water freezing cold and Ichigo turned it off. "Hey, look at me."

His hair was plastered to his face, hanging long with the weight of water. It only added to the utter pain in pale features—not just from the wounds on his body. His face was beat up, lip cut open, blood trailing from his eye brow and both eyes blackened. He seemed to take a long time to figure out who was staring back at him.

"What happened?" Ichigo asked him.

"I killed him." Ichigo swallowed hard at the slurred words.

"He attacked you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it does! Grimmjow how bad are you hurt?" He saw the discarded needle and thread on the shower bottom, Grimmjow had managed to close up the wound but there was no telling how deep it ran.

"I'm fine." But his head lolled to one side, unfocussed. "He got the worst of it..."

"Grimmjow stay with me."

"...who are you?" Ichigo froze in alarm. Something was seriously wrong with him if he didn't know. But Grimmjow spoke again. "I don't even know your name."

"Oh." It was true. It had never occurred to him before but Grimmjow had only ever referred to him as 'kid', so he wouldn't know his name. "Ichigo."

"Ichigo..."

"Yeah."

"You should go."

"Why? Are others coming?"

"I don't know."

"Grimmjow, what happened?" He returned to his original question but feared he was losing him. His eyes returned to the bottle of pills and vodka. "Grimmjow how much did you take?"

He shook the bottle, but that would tell him nothing, he didn't know how many had been in it to start out with. "Grimmjow?" He felt his pulse. It was weak, erratic, just like his breathing. He slipped down the wall, his fingers growing lax.

"Grimmjow!"

"GRIMMJOW!" The cry echoed out behind him and Ichigo heard several people fill the room beyond.

"There!"

Ichigo tensed when he saw the four from the park but they moved quicker than him. "Out of the way."

The red haired one hauled him bodily from the room but made no further move to harm him, he just kept a hold of him while the other two men grabbed Grimmjow and got him out onto the floor. The bald one held his fingers to his throat.

"Fuck, nothing."

"What?" Ichigo exclaimed, "He was just talking to me!"

"Backup" Rukia dropped next to Grimmjow's body, laying her head to his chest. "Did you see how much he took?" she asked.

"No...oh Hell, did he OD?"

She didn't answered, just lined up her palms and pressed down. They all watched, tensed as she pumped his chest and gave breaths. It seemed an eternity before he convulsed, immediately vomiting and she got him to his side so he could breathe.

"Grimmjow..." Ichigo watched him roll back from the mess. The dark haired man moved to clean it up while the woman went back to the door to lock it.

"Let him go, Renji." She instructed, and Ichigo was freed. He dropped to his knees next to Grimmjow.

"Who are you?" He asked them once he saw Grimmjow was still breathing. His eyes were shut again.

"We're agents with Interpol."

Ichigo stiffened. "What?"

"We didn't want to involve you but it looks like you've involved yourself, Ichigo Kurosaki."

She knelt at Grimmjow's other side. "Grimmjow." She tapped his bruised cheek. He came too, slowly, eyes fogged. "Grimmjow, it's Rukia."

He just nodded, weakened from his near death experience. She took his hand maybe as a comfort, but mostly to keep his focus on her. "Was that on purpose just now? Did you mean to kill yourself?"

"I dunno..."

"Because you killed that man?"

"..."

"Grimmjow?"

"I thought you had my back," he grunted.

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"You killed him in self defence."

"I still killed him."

"So you tried to kill yourself?"

"No...I..." he swallowed, a hot tear escaped one eye, Ichigo watched on in stunned silence. "I can't do it again, Rukia."

"What?"

"I can't go back to him...to that. I got clean. It nearly killed me."

"I know."

"When I'm on it...I'm dead inside. It made me hollow..."

"I know."

"If I did what you wanted, and went back, he'd use Hogyoku on me again."

"I know."

"So you know I'll never go back."

"Yes. It's alright Grimmjow. I'll take you into custody. We'll protect you."

"No. I don't think you can."

"We will. You'll be off the streets, out of danger."

"No... they'll come for me."

"Not if we have you where they can't find you."

She nodded to two of the men. "Madrame, Renji, get him up. Yumichika, get the car."

She rose, and went to the closet, grabbing a bag and stuffing it with some of his clothes. "We'll get you changed and then we'll be on our way."

They had Grimmjow up between them now.

"We'll change him after, Rukia, we gotta go," Renji informed her. "Hey kid, you grab his wallet, will ya?" He nodded to the coffee table and Ichigo grabbed it. Then he remembered his phone and got that too.

"Let's go then." Rukia took them out. They locked up the apartment behind them. Grimmjow was pretty much limp between them but his head sagged to one side and he watched Ichigo. He never spoke. They loaded him into the car, Ichigo next to him.

"Here." Someone passed them a blanket. Ichigo wrapped it around Grimmjow's shoulders.

"We'll follow you." Renji said to Rukia in the passenger seat. He and Ikkaku headed for another car.

"Where are we going?" Ichigo asked her when they pulled out.

"Our base of operations. Kurosaki, you should not have gotten involved," she reprimanded. "However, now that you are, we will take measures to protect you."

He nodded and she turned back to the front.

"Grimmjow?" He asked when he saw his head lolling again, but blue eyes forced themselves open.

"Kid...you should have stayed away."

"I know, but I thought you were hurt."

He shut his eyes. "Why do you care?"

"I don't know, I just do."

"I'm not someone you should want to be around."

"Too late."

He opened his eyes again at this, a bit surprised, or confused by the answer given. "Ichigo."

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to be sick again."

It was hardly a warning. He leaned forward and heaved on his side of the car. Rukia swore and Ichigo moved his feet back to make sure he didn't get caught in the splash back but when Grimmjow went limp, he caught his shoulders and pulled him back against him.

"SHIT!" Rukia swore seeing the mess. "Great. Is he unconscious?"

"Yeah." Ichigo held him as the car jostled. "Is he really suicidal?"

"Yes," she answered bluntly. "I stopped him from killing himself one year ago."

"What? Why? He doesn't seem like-"

"They don't always, but he has his reasons." She turned to face him at this. "What I mean to say, is he wasn't always like this."

"He was addicted to something. He called it the Hogyoku tonight. It messed with him, didn't it?"

"It's classified." But her eyes confirmed it. So he had gone clean, but in the process his system had gotten out of balance. It certainly explained the depression that seemed to strike him out of nowhere. No matter how happy he ever managed to get, if those chemicals in his brain got unbalanced, he could sink in the deepest depths of depression.

They drove on, Ichigo still had the wallet, he pulled it open, curious. The first thing he noticed was the driver's licence.

"Is this real?" he asked Rukia. "I mean, the birth date."

She took it. "Yeah, why?"

"He's only nineteen?"

"Yes. He seems older, doesn't he?"

"Yeah." Ichigo was shocked. Here he'd thought Grimmjow was mid twenties, not so much in his appearance but his attitude, where he lived, what he did, how he talked. He sounded like someone who'd been out in the world a long time, not just a couple of years. "Who is he? Why is everyone after him?"

"I can't tell you that."

"It has to do with what he was addicted to?"

She just looked at him. He knew the answer. He looked next to the phone but put it in Grimmjow's pocket instead. It wasn't his place to go snooping, he'd done enough already.

"Rukia, how far—"

Ichigo never finished his question. He saw the flash of headlights, heard Yumichika give a shout, then all he knew was hot white light and pain.

* * *

_**Thanks for reading and revie**__**wing! More of the mystery of Grimmjow unfolds next chapter...after some good old blood and violence, of course!**_

_**Riza**_


	6. Chapter 6

Metal twisted and turned. Gasoline dripped and pooled. Tires spun and gears whirred. The world came back in bits and pieces, and Ichigo tried to make out the jumble of limbs and wreckage around him.

The first thing he saw were dead eyes. Neck cut through to the spinal cord, mouth agape and eyes wide open, the man they'd called Yumichika was all but decapitated. His seat forced back in the blow, he was more in the back seat than in the front. The car was on its side, Ichigo lay against the window and passenger door. He couldn't see past Rukia's seat to where she was. He didn't know if she was dead or alive. He tried to move but pain lanced up his arm, he saw an alarming amount of blood. But everything was still working. He shifted on broken glass and looked for a way out.

It was only then that he realized Grimmjow was gone.

"H-help," he called, everything shaking, including his voice. He tried to crawl out of the car but Yumichika and his seat were blocking his way, blood dripping steadily down on him.

He threw up.

"Kid."

Ichigo turned sideways at the voice. He flinched when broken glass sprayed his way, but quickly realized someone was clearing out what was left of the rear window so he could crawl through. "Here."

He took the hand and crawled through, stumbling out onto snow and grass. They were off the road by several hundred feet: the two cars had forced each other far from the pavement. But Ichigo wasn't looking at that, he was looking at the man now steadying him.

"Grimmjow?" Moments ago he'd been unconscious in his arms. Now he stood barefoot in the February night, pistol in one hand, shaken teen in the other.

"Shh. Stay close and stay down." He lowered them, keeping one hand wrapped in Ichigo's coat to guide him back from the car and got them ducked behind tall grass. Ichigo almost asked what they were doing before he saw men run down the bank to the cars.

"Any survivors?"

"The girl." They dragged Rukia from the car. She was limp in their arms. "The other one's dead."

"What about Abarai and the bald one? They go down?"

"Haven't heard yet. What do we do with her?"

"Leave her there, she can get torched with the rest of it."

Ichigo tensed but Grimmjow kept a firm grip on his hand. They watched them lean Rukia back against the car that was drenched in spilled fuel.

"Alright, let's light this baby."

"Shit." Ichigo glanced sideways but Grimmjow was already moving. He lunged from the grass and onto one man while he fired a round at the same time. The one with the lighter fell dead. Grimmjow and the other hit the ground.

Ichigo stared at the dead form for several seconds before his body kicked into gear and he hurried to Grimmjow's aid. The two had fallen against the side of the car. The enemy had Grimmjow by the throat, scraping his bare back against the broken window.

"Hey!" Ichigo called, and looked for anything that might help. He ducked a punch and came up with a piece of the bumper. He didn't think, he just reacted, and the next thing the man was on the ground, coughing blood. Ichigo had hit him square in the jaw and he was barely conscious.

"Grimmjow..." Ichigo caught him as he fell off the car, his back serrated.

"Shit," he moaned but shook out of Ichig's hold. "Get her," he instructed. Ichigo picked up Rukia. She so small in stature he could manage her weight despite his injured arm.

"Now what?"

"We run."

There was nothing more to it than that. Their options limited, Grimmjow directed them back to the highway. If they got lost out in the woods, he'd most likely freeze to death. Ichigo wanted to offer him a layer of clothing but he now had Rukia in his arms and they didn't slow down. Girmmjow had his gun in hand and kept them just on the side of the road.

"What about the others?"

"Probably dead," Grimmjow grunted.

They ran some distance before Grimmjow spotted something and took them back into the grass. He used the butt of his gun to smash the lock and let them into the small highway patrol office, in use only in the busiest times of year. A thermostat was on the wall, he cranked it and Ichigo pulled off his jacket once he had Rukia on the ground. But Grimmjow couldn't put it on and Ichigo saw why: among the cuts were three large shards of glass embedded deep in his back.

"Shit," Ichigo breathed, seeing the damage. "Sit down." He pulled out the sole chair in the claustrophobic room.

Grimmjow dropped willingly into the chair. This had to be done, the sooner the better.

"SHIT!" he bellowed with the first shard. By the last he was more focused on just breathing and staying conscious. Ichigo found a first air kit and did his best to seal bandages over the wounds. He saw blood on his bare feet as well but Grimmjow didn't consider this worth their time, he instead turned to Ichigo whose arm continued to bleed. They switched spots and Grimmjow doused his arm with alcohol, causing him to cry out and revealed the forearm length cut. He wrapped it up, but the bandage quickly stained red.

"Crap."

"What about her?" Ichigo diverted, looking to Rukia.

"I don't know. She was out when I woke up. So were you." He looked to his forehead. "You must have a concussion."

"I'm alright," Ichigo lied. "She's the one still asleep."

"Fine." Grimmjow swept the blood from her forehead with a cloth then looked her over for more serious wounds but found none. "Looks like she'll be alright." It was just a guess.

"What do we do?"

"Call 911."

"What?" Ichigo balked. In every situation, Grimmjow had refused this option. But his willingness was quickly explained. "I'll run, you stay here with her, until help arrives."

"What? No!"

"It's the only way."

"No!" Ichigo rose and caught his arm. "You're hurt too. You need to stay with us."

"I'll be fine."

"You tried to kill yourself tonight. If you go out that door, I know you're not coming back alive."

"I didn't...I didn't mean it, tonight." Grimmjow yanked his arm back but he calmed some. "I wasn't trying to, I was just in pain, I over did it."

"You sure?"

"What's it matter to you anyway? You shouldn't even be here, you're just a kid."

"And so are you!"

"What?"

"I saw your driver's license, you're only nineteen, you're what, two years older than me?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does. Grimmjow please, stay with us."

"I can't."

"What if they come, and you're not here? What happens to Rukia and I then?"  
He knew he was laying it on thick, but it seemed to work, because Grimmjow faltered and his anger subsided.

"Fine." He sat on the floor. "For now anyway."

Relief flooded Ichigo. He said down as well. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, I still might get you killed."

* * *

Ichigo must have drifted because when he woke it was dark and he only saw an electronic glow from one corner. He moved to Grimmjow's side, and looked at the screen of his phone.

"Who is it?"

"No one." He shut it.

"You stare at your phone alot."

"Says who?"

"I've just noticed."

"Screw you."

"What's this all about Grimmjow? What is the Hogyoku?"

Even in the dark, Ichigo caught his appraising eyes. He seemed to decide it was alright to tell him.

"A drug—well, more than that."

"Meaning?"

"It changes your—enhances you, they say. Makes you stronger, faster, a _supersoldier_, I think that was the term."

"You were a soldier?"

"No. The Japanese government developed it for the military, but it went sideways, got discontinued. There were three lead scientists on it. One defected when the program was shut down. His name was Sosuke Aizen."

"Who is he?"

"The man who gave Hogyoku to me."

Ichigo absorbed this. "So he took his research, and used it on civilians?"

"To put it simply, yes."

"How?"

"How what? He has money, he has power, he was the first to start taking it. He corrected the issues, he took it himself, became untouchable by the government unless they were willing to pour alot of resources into shutting him down. He networked, became important to alot of people. He made himself literally and figuratively indestructible."

"So where do you come in?"

"He gave it to me too."

"You're a supersoldier?"

"No. Not anymore." He turned away to look at Rukia, still asleep. "A year ago Interpol decided they wanted to get their hands on the newest development in Hogyoku. They wanted to take down Aizen but keep all his research. They targeted me, I think because I was the youngest, and most recently started on the drug. So I was the easiest to catch and rehabilitate."

"That's how you know Rukia."

"Yeah. This team and her brother took me in. It was bloody, I wounded them all, but I had been injured before they came, so they got me in the end. They put me through withdrawal—the worst Hell of my life, but I survived, and it was like I woke up out of a dream. When I was on the drug, I was powerful, but I was hollow, I had no emotions. I didn't know this until I was off it again. They saved me and they promised me protection."

"So what happened?"

"Aizen came to take me back. Rukia lost her brother because of it."

"And then?"

"I was supposed to go back on the drug, but I knew it would kill me—the real me—so I escaped. I thought he would come after me, but he didn't."

Ichigo nodded. "Grimmjow, who are you then? Why did he choose you?"

"Genetics." He tried to sound nonchalant but it didn't work.

"What do you mean?"

"He wanted people with a certain genetic code."

"What code?"

He was met with a long sigh, then, "His code. Sosuke Aizen is my father."

* * *

_**More secrets revealed next time!**_

_**Thanks for the reviews,**_

_**Riza**_


	7. Chapter 7

Grimmjow blacked out for a while after their conversation. Ichigo had encouraged him to drop off when his head started drooping, though the thought of being the only one awake and responsible for them scared him.

Still, Grimmjow had nearly died before they'd all been in the car crash, so he must have needed some recovery time. Ichigo watched him now, next to Rukia on the floor, and wondered just what they should do. Grimmjow was convinced that as long as he was with them, calling 911 would only get them killed. Whoever was after him, wouldn't hesitated to attack even with the cops involved. As it stood right now, they were safe enough, no one knew where they were.

Ichigo began to feel sleep threatening as well but then Rukia made a startled noise and Grimmjow came awake as well.

"Rukia!" Both men hovered over her. "Hey, it's okay," Ichigo soothed.

"Wake up." Grimmjow gave her a shake. Her eyes parted. "That's it. Tell me you're still all there."

"Grimmjow?" She sat with their help. "Kurosaki. What did you do to me?"

"Nothing," Ichigo defended.

"We were attacked," Grimmjow explained. "Car crash, pretty bad, don't know who might be looking for us."

"Where are we?"

"Highway patrol station. Not two kilometres from the site."

"Not far enough."

"Far enough when we had to carry you," Grimmjow countered. She looked him over, seeing bandages.

"So Renji and the others are on the perimeter?"

"Never saw them. Yumichika's dead."

She grabbed his arm. "What?"

"Sorry."

"No..."

"Come on." He got her standing, Ichigo followed them up. "Can you walk?"

She clutched her head.

"I guess."

"Good. Because we should move."

She looked him up and down. "You're still here."

"Obviously."

"Why didn't you leave us?"

"I know, I'm putting you in danger, I-"

"No. I mean, I didn't expect you to stick around and help."

"Oh." He glanced at Ichigo. "He made me."

It wasn't entirely true, Grimmjow had intended to flee in order to protect them, but there was no point correcting him.

"Thank you," she said, regardless of his reasoning. "And to answer your question, yes, I can walk. Can you?"

The crusted blood on his feet hadn't gone missed by her quick eyes. No doubt he had torn them up escaping the wreckage. "I'll be fine," he assure her. "Kid?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Ichigo said, despite his shaking limbs, exhaustion and thirst. "Let's go."

They did. It was cold going for the boys: Ichigo had given his coat to Grimmjow, leaving him bare armed and Grimmjow still barefoot. They pushed on into the forest that bordered the highway: they guessed it was their safest route until they were far enough from the scene Rukia could call for backup.

Their breath puffed before them in the cold; white clouds in the moonlight. Everything looked like it was moving, the cold moon cast deceptive shadows on the trees around them. They kept up as fast a pace as they could manage, all of them sore and hurt from the crash, Grimmjow's body exhausted from the overdose. He was the first to stagger to a stop from the combined pain in his chest and in his feet.

"You've overdone it," Rukia warned, though she looked no better. Grimmjow was on his knees gagging and clutching a tree.

"Bullshit," he spat out. "Barely been ten km."

"You're extremely dehydrated." He'd had nothing but alcohol since being stabbed, bleeding, barfing and then in a car crash. "Your body can't take much more without water. And," she leaned back and lifted her coat, tearing strips from her shirt beneath. "You're going to lose your toes at this rate."

They took some time for her to bind up his feet as best she could. His chances of coming out with all ten toes was still not very good but it was a start. As for water, they were in a bind. It was below freezing, any source of water was frozen and they had no way to melt it. The scarcest bit of snow lay here and there, but not enough to easily gather.

They didn't have much choice but to make for town and hope for backup.

"This way." Rukia took the lead. "We'll hit the road in a kilometre, the next town in four. We'll bunk up somewhere and get help."

It was a struggle for all of them to make it through that last push. And when they arrived, bodies steaming, bandaged and coated in sweat, bruises and spots of blood in a motel, the manager looked like he had half a mind to phone the police. Rukia talked him down, got them a room and started to make arrangements for a pickup. Ichigo doused Grimmjow in water, making him drink as much as he could stand and drawing a steaming bath he forced him to put his battered feet in.

It was an ugly sight, when the dirt cleared and life returned to numbed digits. Grimmjow sat on the edge of the bath, shirtless again as Ichigo checked his wounds and jeans rolled up to his knees. Rukia inspected the wound on her forehead and Ichigo preferred not to glimpse the mess of himself in the mirror.

"Oh Hell!" Ichigo exclaimed when he saw the inflammation around the wound on Grimmjow's stomach. This caught Rukia's attention and she too cursed.

Red lines spread out from the rough stitches, the whole area inflamed and though they were all sweating from the sudden change from cold to warm, Grimmjow could easily be suffering a severe fever.

"I'm okay." He tried to pass it off, but could hardly stand when they tried to get him up. It was partly from his feet—the pain that had been numbed earlier was now fully brought to life and he winced at every step but there was no doubting the stomach wound was draining him. They got him flat out on the bed and Rukia leaned over the marred flesh.

"We don't have any supplies, we'll have to med-evac when they get here."

"How long?" Ichigo asked.

"Close to an hour, I'd guess. We're spread thin, monitoring all those interested in Hogyku." She didn't seem to care about leaking official information to Ichigo right now. "Grimmjow, how badly were you stabbed?"

"I was stabbed, it was bad," he said shortly.

"With what?"

"A knife. Six inches, if that's what you're asking. And I doubt he sterilized it first," he grunted, shifting uncomfortably. The painkillers that had almost killed him earlier, were probably the only reason he'd been able to move up to this point and now they were wearing off.

"Stay with him," Rukia instructed Ichigo. "I'll keep watch."

"For Interpol or Yakuza?"

"Both."

"Great." He sat on the bed and made it shift under Grimmjwo who winced. "Sorry."

He got a grunt but then blue eyes shifted to his arm. "What about you?"

"I'm alright."

"You have a head wound and a Frankenstein arm, I doubt you're alright."

Ichigo shrugged. He wasn't great, but he honestly didn't feel as bad as he should after all that had happened. "Adrenaline maybe."

"Maybe. But I think I used all of mine up." He shut his eyes.

"Hey, don't go to sleep." They heard Rukia from the window.

"Why not?"

"Concussion, infection, overdose—you tell me why you shouldn't fall unconscious until someone with a medical degree takes a look at you," she replied, never turning from her position.

Grimmjow let out an exasperated noise but Ichigo agreed with her and prodded him back awake.

"She's right," he answered the annoyed blue eyes. "Stay awake."

"I don't think I can..." he slurred, eyes shutting again.

"Grimmjow. Grimmjow! Rukia!"

"Check his pulse."

Ichigo did. "It's not great but it's there."

"Then there isn't much more we can do. How's the rest of him?" Ichigo did a run down. He was definitely feverish, every inch of flesh on fire, and his feet were still bleeding. Ichigo didn't even know where to start with them but he gave it a try with what little supplies they had.

"He told me, about the Hogyoku drug, the Japanese government, the supersoldier program. And he told me about Aizen being his father."

He saw Rukia glance at him in the window's reflection but then her eyes refocused on the night beyond.

"When I was unconscious?"

"Yes."

"Did he also tell you how we met?"

"I got the picture."

"I messed up," she said softly. "And now I've messed up again. My entire team-"

"We don't know what happened to the others."

"There's little hope."

"It's not your fault, Rukia."

"I didn't want to use him, but it was my orders. When he popped up on our grid, I knew I had to take the case. It's unfinished business, but I'm afraid this business is going to finish me." She sighed. "I can't believe I'm explaining all this to a high school student."

Ichigo almost forgot he was still a student, after everything. He'd lost himself to the whole ordeal, and his sole focus in the last few hours had been survival.

Strangely, it felt more natural than any class.

There was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Ichigo asked Rukia.

"They must have come around back." She tried to sound convincing but she approached the door with Grimmjow's stolen gun in hand. Ichigo watched her creep up to the frame, another knock sounding behind the wood.

She got to the peephole by the third, reaching it on tiptoes.

The explosion rang through Ichigo's very soul, not because it was deafening, but because he instantly understood when Rukia arched back from the busted frame, blood specking her front. When the door flew in with a second shot. When several men appeared in its absence, kicking her limp form to the side with unforgiving harshness.

"No..." Ichigo swung at the first, determined to go down fighting. He actually got a strike before he was slammed into the wall, punched square in the face and dropped on the ground. Shots erupted in the hall, other patrons screamed. These people weren't concerned with collateral damage or making their presence known.

"Take him." Someone ordered, nodding to the limp form on the bed.

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo called, receiving a boot in the gut for the action.

"What about him?" His captor asked.

"Kill him."

"GRIMMJOW!"

The man above Ichigo collapsed. He heard a startled noises, solid strikes, and the click of a shotgun being pumped.

"Back the fuck off!" When Ichigo looked up, Grimmjow was on the bed, armed with one of the men's weapons, and one man on the floor barely breathing. This left five others, their guns trained on the heaving, sweating, bleeding man.

"How the hell did he do that?"

"Just bring him down."

"Can't. He's already in rough shape and we need every drop."

"Shit."

"Get up, kid," Grimmjow instructed. Ichigo did. "Stay behind me."

"You ain't getting out of here."

"By the sounds of it, you can't shoot me, but I can shoot you." Grimmjow threatened.

"You don't have the ner-" The man fell back from the shotgun spray, it was hard to tell if it was fatal or not but Grimmjow wasn't playing games, wasn't taking chances, he meant to get out of this alive and that would mean killing these bastards. The gun needed reloading but he swung it around as a club and caught another man in the skull. He had the upper ground, so to speak, but someone used their brains and grabbed the bed covers, attempting to trip Grimmjow. He started to fall but caught the ceiling fan. Its motor whined at the counter weight but it held and his foot connected with one of the guys' faces before he dropped among them.

The pain in his side got the better of him and his knees failed to lock when he dropped, however, from this position he struck a man's knee cap and forced it the wrong way. The guy hollered and fell, a shot going wild and Ichigo ducked to avoid further. Grimmjow came up and used his head to strike a man who staggered back into a wall near Ichigo. Grimmjow rammed into him and reached for the teen.

"Now kid!" They had their window, small as it was, and their hands met before a man on the ground regained his senses enough to strike Grimmjow right in the stomach, on that infected wound.

He dropped with an agonized scream. And just like that, it was over. Whatever elite training Grimmjow may have had, whatever skills and instincts, he was only human now, and he would not be getting up after a blow like that.

He looked near fainting when he was grabbed and rolled onto his back. Ichigo was half strangled by the hold around his neck and he was forced to his knees next to them. A gun was raised to his head. Someone grabbed Grimmjow's chin and forced him to look at the teen.

"Do anything, and we blow his brains all over the wall. Understand?"

Grimmjow gave a weak nod.

"Ain't we taking him back?" Another man spoke.

"No. He's caused too much trouble already. We do this here and now."

"Do what?" Ichigo suffered a punch to the gut for daring to speak but his question was answered anyway as a man straddled Grimmjow's hips and a cooler was set down next to him. He opened it to reveal rows of vials all hooked into a central line, the end of which formed into a needle which he now took and put to Grimmjow's neck while others restrained him.

"Boy, your blood is worth more than anything on the market these days." He slid the needle in and instantly red blood filled the tube. Grimmjow couldn't escape the hold of the men, pinning his arms and his head. "You're the only person who's had Hogyoku and not on lockdown. Can't believe no one's come for you before."

"I'm not on it...anymore," he breathed, already sounding like he was on death's door.

"Doesn't matter, once it's in you, it never leaves completely, or so I've heard. Hand this over to the right people, and they can pick out traces of it, enough to reverse engineer our own doses."

"mmm..." Ichigo watched Grimmjow shut his eyes, he was losing way too much blood on top of everything else.

"That's it, just go to sleep kid, it'll be over soon."

But blue eyes blinked awake again, as if in defiance, and he strained against their hold in a last effort.

"Shhh, son, just let it go."

"...no..."

"Why not? What have you really got to live for?"

"...anything...everything..."

"Well I'm afraid it's too late, kid." The man on his waist shifted and rose. They let him go and he lay limp. "A person can't live once they lose a certain amount of blood, I'm afraid you're just about there."

"No..." Ichigo saw the tubes full of blood next to him, but his eyes were focused on Grimmjow. "NO!"  
Grimmjow looked at him, hands moving slowly, but they went for his pocket, where his phone was, the screen he'd stared at so many times, for comfort or torture, Ichigo never knew.

"It'll do you no good now." the man took it from him when he realized what he was trying to do. He flipped it open. "No one on here can save you now."

He hit the contacts list. Ichigo was behind him, he could see the screen.

There was only one name.

"Actually..." Grimmjow breathed, "he can."

Both Ichigo and the man's eyes widened at the single name and then the whole place erupted in gunfire.

There was no warning, just chaos as a group of armed men broke into the room.

Ichigo fell forward. The man who'd been holding him was dead at his back, a bullet in his brain, but he himself was unharmed. He dared to lift his head, and watched the new comers step over the bodies. Before him, the leader was still sputtering, Grimmjow's phone in hand.

"A lesson," a tall, square shouldered man with swept back brown hair towered over the dying gang member. "Do not try to take what's mine. My research," He cocked the old style revolver, "Or my son."

Ichigo jolted at the shot. A spray of blood and thicker chunks of grey matter flew back on him and he remained frozen in horror at the sensation.

"He's barely breathing." Someone had unhooked the needle from Grimmjow's neck and was trying to stem the bleeding.

"It's alright." Aizen knelt next to his wayward son and gently pulled him up by the shoulders. His arms were limp at his sides but as if by this man's will his eyes remained open. "Grimmjow, I've come to rescue you."

"...father."

"Yes. We've come to take you home."

Blue eyes shut. A tear seeped out.

"Shh. I've got you now." Aizen comforted, lifting his son from the floor, but everything in Ichigo knew that Grimmjow saw not salvation, but damnation in that embrace.

* * *

**_As always, thanks for the reviews!_**

**_Riza_**


	8. Chapter 8

Brown eyes parted to a white ceiling, the soft whir of a fan to one side. The patient shifted to see the rest of the surroundings but winced in pain.

"Rukia, don't move."  
She didn't listen when she heard the gruff voice, instead it made her fight past the pain to turn sideways.

"Renji." Her voice was just a rasp. "You're alive."

"Yeah. Ikkaku too, we didn't have it half as bad as you guys...I don't know if you were awake to see but Yumichika didn't make it."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. We knew what we were in for." He put a hand on her shoulder, "Besides, it's a miracle you pulled through. Your chest was full of shot and splinters. You're lucking nothing went past your ribs."

"Yeah...lucky," she wheezed. "But how? What happened?"

"Yakuza got you. But they were all dead upon our arrival."

"How is that possible?"

"Aizen."

"What...?"

"Ichigo Kurosaki saw the whole thing. He said Grimmjow fought as best he could, but was taken down. They tried to uh...drain his blood, something about reverse engineering the Hogyoku drug...I guess it makes sense. But then Aizen and some of his men showed up, wiped the place and took Grimmjow."

She shut her eyes. "No...Those poor boys." But she opened them again, "Wait, how do you know this? If they killed Ichigo-"

"They didn't. He said they shot the man restraining him and all the others but just let him go."

"Impossible. I understand they thought I was dead, but if Ichigo was awake to witness all of this there's no way they would leave him alive."

"I know, it disturbs me too. But he is, I can go get him if you want, he's just down the hall."

"Not right now." She was in pain. "I need to talk to HQ."

"You need to rest."

"We can't wait on this. We're losing the trail."

"What trail? Rukia, Grimmjow was only an asset because he was within reach, and he wasn't doped up on stone-cold-killer drugs anymore. But he's gone now. He's out of our reach and I'm sure by now he's already that killing machine that nearly took us all down a year ago. It's over, Rukia, I'm sorry. Grimmjow's on his own now."

He put a hand on her arm when she shut her eyes, but never noticed the teen listening from just outside the door.

* * *

Fire on his skin. Ice in his bones. Tremors. Nightmares. Hallucinations. Hands on him. A soothing voice.

Grimmjow didn't break free of sickness for a long time. He had only flashes of memories, of the white lights and metal surfaces of a medical ward, then the pale walls and suffocating sheets of a bed. Pain beyond anything he'd ever known in his stomach. He thought he might have had surgery, he knew he'd been given powerful medications, but it was still all a blur when he woke with a clear enough mind in a small room, the window darkened by night and reinforced by iron bars.

He sighed and looked to his left. A chain cemented to the wall led under the sheets, he'd already felt the weight of the shackle on his left wrist.

He'd been in this situation before, one year ago. He'd managed to escape then, he knew they would never let it happen a second time. And shifting slightly, he knew he was in no condition to even consider an attempt.

The door opened on his right. He knew who it would be even before he saw his face.

"Son, you're awake." Grimmjow just followed him as he crossed the room and took a seat on the side of his bed. "Do you know where you are?"

"The detention centre." He was startled by the hoarseness of his voice. Aizen stood again, and got a glass of water. When Grimmjow tried to sit, he failed. He made a frustrated noise.

"It's alright." Aizen pulled him up and helped him drink. "Your wounds were severe, it will take some time to get your strength back."

"How long has it been?"

"Six days. You were unconscious for three days, we had to operate on your stomach wound. It's much better but even with our strongest medications the infection wreaked havoc on you. If it weren't for Hogyoku, you would have died."

Grimmjow looked up sharply at this. "What? You've already given it to me?"

"Enough to get you through this, but not a full dose. I'm afraid that would shock your system too much, we will have to gradually get you back on."

Grimmjow dropped his eyes.

"You still think you are better without it?" Aizen read his thoughts. "Even after that year away from us."

"Yes."

"Really? Tell me, what was so great about the world outside these walls that makes you resist me? Was it living in poverty? Was it that month you spent literally living on the streets, eating other people's scraps? Was it the petty crimes you committed to get by? Or the scum you traded secrets with for cash? Was it living above that shit hole listening to drunkards every night?"

This brought blue eyes back up to him. "You were watching me, that whole time?"

"Yes, Grimmjow. You had to know I wouldn't let you go so easily. I gave you your chance to see the world for what it is: violent and cruel and lonely. Those men would have killed you, if I hadn't intervened. You must know this."

"...I do."

"You wanted me to come, didn't you? Whenever you felt overwhelmed, or scared, you wanted to call me, to come home. Well now you don't have to be frightened anymore, I'm here, you're home."

"But I...I don't want to go back on it."

"It will make you strong again."

"It makes me empty inside."

"And do you really like how you are now? The anger, the deep depression? No, it's for the best. Now rest up."

He rose, Grimmjow watched him go. He felt his throat tighten with overwhelming emotion, because even on his darkest day, he would rather feel human than hollow.

* * *

"Ichigo. It's nice to meet you." Ichigo shook hands with the blonde man before him. He was wearing a suit, but the tie was absent and his buttons half undone. Ichigo got the impression this man didn't care for formality, though Renji had introduced him as the leader of the Hogyoku operation.

"My name is Kisuke Urahara. Please, have a seat." They were in a private room. Ichigo sat at the table across from him. "I'm Interpol's lead investigat-"

"I know," Ichigo interrupted. "I'm sorry, but I've been in custody for days. I haven't been able to contact my family, they probably think I'm dead."

"They don't."

"Then what?"

"They were informed you were arrested."

"I'm under arrest?"

"No, you're in protective custody. But we can hardly advertise this to anyone outside of the case. You were taken by Yakuza. You saw the faces of Aizen and his men. Now, you are fortunate in that Yakuza probably has no idea you were involved since their members were all found dead at the scene. Aizen, however, does know your face and no doubt your name. For one reason or another, he let you live, but I don't feel that's a good enough reason to send you on your way just yet. Who knows if he'll change his mind? If and when it is determined you are safe, you can return to your normal life."

"Oh yeah, great, and everyone will think I'm a criminal!"

"Your record will be clean, I assure you."

"That's not what I meant."

"Ichigo. I know it's alot to take in, but I have to debrief you."

Ichigo slouched back in his chair. "Fine."

"We would like to find out what you know about Grimmjow—his dealings, his condition, and his affiliates."

"Are you going to try to get him back?"

Ichigo already knew the answer from what he'd overheard, and expected a lie, but Urahara faced him honestly.

"No. Rukia was our lead agent on the front lines, and with her wounds, and the loss of a team member, this operation has already cost too much. We will return to surveillance of the organization."

Ichigo already knew this too—Renji and Ikkaku had been absent for days—there was little doubt where they had gone.

"I'll tell you what you want," Ichigo agreed. "But will you answer my questions, off the record or whatever? I mean, Grimmjow is Aizen's son, right? And Aizen stole this Hogyoku thing?"

"No, he did not steal it." The man seemed willing to share top secret information. "He engineered it, with two others. The three were recruited by the Japanese military right out of university. It was their joint effort that produced Hogyoku, but in trials, it proved volatile. The men who took it became supersoldiers in their strength and intelligence, but they were uncontrollable, wild, blood thirsty."

"So it was shut down?"

"It was. But one of the three left."

"Aizen."

"Yes. At the time, I did not know he had taken research with him, nor did I predict he would spend the next twenty five years developing it, and his own army."

"So you were one of the three?"

"Yes."

"And the other?"

"He left before the first soldier was injected. He is of no concern anymore."

"So when you say Aizen's army, you mean...his children?"

"I do. Grimmjow being the youngest of the six."

"Why did he do it?"

"It doesn't matter." Apparently his forthcoming mood was coming to an end. "What matters is what we can learn from Grimmjow's escape. He is the only one of the six to leave Aizen. The only one to come off of Hogyoku, which frankly we did not think was possible."

"You didn't think he could withstand the withdrawal?"

"No, it is intensely powerful, and as you probably noticed, he did not come out unscathed."

"The depression."

"Yes. But believe it or not, that was a much less severe side effect than we expected. So now that you know a little more about the subject, please tell me what you witnessed in your encounters with Grimmjow Jaggerjaques."

Ichigo nodded. He sat back and began to describe the man he'd come to know, and the man he knew he'd probably never see again.

* * *

"He's been like this for three days. He's dangerously dehydrated and slowly starving himself to death." A rose haired scientis said to Aizen as they stood behind the window in the door, looking in on the form on the bed. Grimmjow was laying on his side, facing the wall, his back to them.

"This is the depression you reported?"

"Yes. Halibel and Starrk both told of it from their surveillance."

"It's from Hogyoku?"

"Most likely. When he's off the antibiotics, I will run blood work. But I am sure we will find his serotonin levels unbalanced. For now, we will have to wait out the episode. I'll start him on an IV."

"Good. Thank you, Szayel."

"Yes, father."

He left to get what he required. Aizen opened the door and moved to the patient.

"Is this what you really want to suffer?" He spoke above him, Grimmjow never moved. "To know despair, sorrow, so deep you can't move?" He leaned low, put a hand on his son's arm, whispered in his ear. "I will liberate you Grimmjow, from your Hell, I promise."

He moved back to the door, Szayel just returning. "As soon as you can, I want a full exam. He's the only one to come off of it—he can provide valuable research."

"And then?"

"And then, Szayel, we give him Hogyoku again, and you will have your brother back."

* * *

_**Not a lot of action but a few answers! Thanks for the reviews!**_

_**Riza.**_


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